**The Leash of Fate**
Gentle yet insistent rays of morning sunlight slip through the thin curtains, casting golden streaks across the sleeping womans face. They seem to whisper, *”Wake upthe world is already beautiful, and its waiting for you.”* Lydia stretches in bed, her body light and refreshed after a deep sleep. This ease is a hard-earned reward for years of self-discipline.
Exactly eight years, two months, and seventeen days have passed since she showed her ex-husband the door. Not that she counts every day, but the date is etched in her memory as the start of her real life. Their son, James, is now a grown manindependent, studying at a prestigious university in Edinburgh and rarely coming home. Just phone calls, his voice on the line, familiar yet growing more distant with time.
*”Mum, Ive got exams, then my part-time job, and Lottie and I”* she hears, masking her quiet sadness with a bright reply: *”Of course, love, I understand. Im doing just fine!”* And she isnt lying. Her life is full of purpose and order.
Lydia is forty-three but feels thirty at heart. Slim, toned, with clear grey-blue eyes, she looks younger than her years. The secret? Four years of unwavering routine: up at six, a morning run, a cold shower, a healthy breakfast, then off to the office. Shes a manager at a respected firm and values her position. Her boss, meticulous with an uncanny sense for tardiness, despises lateness.
Shes seen him materialise in the hallway at 9:01 sharp, looming over a breathless colleague. *”Late again? Shouldve woken earlier! Explanation on my desk!”* His low, stern voice sends shivers even through bystanders.
At work, Lydia is respectedsmart, driven, always ready to help. Down-to-earth, easy to talk to. Yet her personal life has been silent since the divorce. Her free time is filled with work, self-care, and her loyal companion: a chocolate Labrador named Barney, whom she affectionately calls “Bear.”
It was his arrival four years ago that sparked these invigorating morning runs. Barney is her alarm clock, coach, and most devoted friend. A stunning chocolate-brown dog with wise, understanding eyes and endless kindness. Hes never been trouble; his easygoing nature is her best antidepressant. Years ago, when choosing a breed, a friends husband advised her: *”Get a Labradoryou wont regret it. A friend, an antidote to loneliness, and a therapist rolled into one.”* He wasnt wrong.
Growing up, shed always had dogs. But during her marriage to Andrew, that dream faded. He loathed animals. *”If you and our son bring some filthy mutt into this flat, I swear Ill toss it off the seventh floor,”* hed sneer, his eyes burning with such malice she believed him.
In the end, *she* nearly threw *him* off the seventh floor when, drunk and raging, he raised a hand to her. She hadnt the strengthonly the will. She wept in the bedroom as he stormed about the living room. Then he slammed the door himself, taking the bags shed packed for him. Fifteen years together, the last three a living nightmare. Andrew failed as a husband and fatherselfish, bitter, never satisfied. That slap was the last straw. Thank God James wasnt home.
*”Good riddance. Well manage. My salarys decent. Better alone than trapped, showing our son a warped idea of love.”* She hadnt been wrong. Eight years of happiness, harmony with herself. Men? Kept at arms length. Andrew had soured her for life.
A warm August morning hums with the last whispers of summer. Lydia rises and peeks into the hallway. Barney waits by the door, leash in mouth, tail thumping the floor. *”Bear, good boy! Who needs an alarm with you around?”* She smiles, slipping on her trainers. *”Alright, lets go!”*
She adores their parkjust a quick dash through the underpass, and there it is: a green oasis with neat pathways. Mornings buzz with runners, cyclists, fellow dog walkers. Unclipping the leash, she watches Barney bolt ahead, glancing back to ensure she follows.
She jogs leisurely, savouring the air, nodding at familiar strangersfellow dawn enthusiasts. Suddenly, a shrill yelp cuts through the lilac bushes. Lydia veers off the path and freezes. Barney stands rigid, hackles raised, before a tiny black kitten, ears flattened in terror. Her heart lurchesshe knows hed never harm itbut instinct propels her forward.
Then the world tilts. Her foot catches a hidden rock with a sickening *crack*. White-hot pain sears through her. She collapses with a gasp, vision swimming. *”No not this”* she whimpers, forcing herself to look. Her leg lies at an unnatural angle. *”Bear, what have you done?”* The kitten vanishes. Barney licks her cheekthen bolts.
Despair clenches her throat. Pain, fear, thoughts of the dog, work, utter lonelinessall merge into a crushing weight. She tries to rise, fails. Tears spill freely.
Meanwhile, Barney races down the path like a mad thing. He finds who hes looking for: a tall, athletic man he sees most mornings. Skidding to a halt, the dog barks frantically.
*”Hey there, handsome!”* the man grins, startled. *”Wheres your mum? Trouble?”*
Barney barks again, spins, and sprints back, checking the man follows. At the bushes, he stops and howls.
The manOliverparts the branches and sees her. Pale, tear-streaked, leg twisted beneath her. *”Morning Though not the best one, eh?”* he amends, kneeling beside her. *”What happened? Your furball sounded the alarm. Clever dog.”*
Gritting her teeth, she exhales: *”My leg Think its broken. Cant move it.”*
*”Ill call an ambulance,”* he says, calm and efficient. His steadiness soothes her.
Paramedics arrive swiftly. A quick glance, and the doctor confirms: *”Fracture. Needs X-rays and setting.”*
*”Hospital?”* Her voice wavers. *”But Barney Ive no one to take him. They wont allow dogs”*
*”Absolutely not,”* the nurse agrees.
Oliver doesnt hesitate. *”Give me the lead. Ill take him.”*
*”Butweve only just met! Im Lydia.”*
*”Oliver. Its fine. Well swap numbers,”* he says, as if offering to carry her shopping.
The doctor notes Olivers details. As medics lift her, she watches Barney whine and strain toward her, Oliver murmuring reassurance.
The ambulance leaves. Oliver stands with the dog. *”Right, mate. Youre with me now,”* he says, heading home. *”Well grab food, then Ive work. Youll have to manage alone a bit.”*
Barney walks quietly, but his drooping posture screams worry.
Oliver owns a garage and parts shop. Hes been alone nearly a yearhis wife, whom hed spoiled, left for a younger man. His shrewd father had insisted the business stay in his name. *”Son, lifes unpredictable. Trust me.”* Now Olivers endlessly grateful. The divorce was clean but left bitterness and distrust.
That evening, his phone rings. *”Oliver? Doctor from St. Marys. Your friends stable, but its a complex break. Shell need time.”*
*”Are there *un*complicated breaks?”* Oliver smirks.
*”Plenty!”* The doctor laughs. *”Visit soon. Shell need rides to check-ups later.”*
Lydia lies in bed, leg encased in plaster. Pain dulls, but loneliness swells. She stares out the window, thinking of Barney, her helplessness, burdening a stranger. When Oliver arrives with fruit and juice, tears well again.
*”Hey! Why the long face?”* he asks, unloading treats.
*”Oliver, Im so sorry for the trouble And Bear How can I thank you?”*
*”Dont!”* He shifts to *”you.”* *”Bear sends love. Hes a star. Weve bonded. Misses you, though. Hurry upwe need you.”*
He jokes, shares stories, and Lydia smiles without noticing. Oliver does. He notes her warm, radiant grin, her shining eyes.
A week later, discharged, she calls him. *”Oliver Could you? Ive crutches, I can manage a taxi”*
*”Already on my way!”* he cuts in.
An hour later, his car idles outside. As he helps her in, a chocolate blur launches from the back seatBarney, licking,
